Grave Danger
by shards of a broken heart
Summary: Dean is disturbed by the haunting thoughts he may never see his father again. Sam tries to pick his spirits up before heading out to West Virginia to investigate teenage deathes involving a horrifying statue.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **I do not own either Dean, Sam or John Winchester.

My first fanfiction, yay! Ive been working on this for a while and finally have it in. Please, pleas,e please, read and review. Tell me whatchya like, dont like, love etc. I'll love you forever.

Caroline

* * *

Dean walked into the small roadside Dinner Diner closely followed by Sam. 

"Two," Dean blandly answered the waitress asking how many.

She led them to a booth on the right hand side of the Diner. It was pushed right up against a window with a _wonderful_ view of the one way road from which Dean and Sam came, and the thick, dark forest on the other side. It was close to sundown and the last rays of pink and orange hues swirled in the clouded sky. Dean sat down wordlessly not looking at the waitress. She handed them two menus and Sam smiled a "thanks" as she walked over to the next hungry costumer.

Sam looked at Dean in an expecting sort of way. Dean just fiddled with the plastic cream colored salt container, twirling it in his fingers breathing quietly. Sam knew this wasn't like Dean. To not talk, to not look at the very cute waitress who took their order, to be depressed.

Sam sighed. What could be wrong with his big brother? It killed him that Dean wasn't talking. To see him so distressed and not know what was wrong? Shoot him now.

But then again, it wasn't the first time he'd seen Dean this way. Right after he had him healed by a Faith Healer to realize he'd taken the life of someone else, wasn't exactly Dean's fondest memory. It took awhile for him to get back in synch again, to move on. Sam remembered how painful that was to drive the car in complete udder silence. Hell, he's going through it right now. Sometimes Dean could be such a...

"Dean," he said finally. The expectant looks weren't getting him anywhere.

Dean grunted in reply still staring at the salt dispenser.

"What the Hell is wrong with you?" he said more out of concern than annoyance.

"Whuddya mean Sam." It sounded more like a statement, than a question.

"I mean, what's with your shitty attitude? It's not like you Dean. Talk to me brother..." he reached across the table and took Deans hands in his, forcing Dean to stop playing with the damn salt container. Which in turn forced Dean to look other places than down at the table. Not looking at Sam he looked out the window at the twilight sky quickly becoming darker.

Sam knew it would take him a while. It always did. Dean had more of a problem telling people things, than he himself did. It took exactly six minutes, six long minutes of waiting, and six minutes of weird stares from across the room looking at the boys hold hands. Sam didn't care. It wasn't like he was ever going to see these people again, and besides that, there was something wrong with his big brother, and he needed to know what it was. Holding Dean's hand helped. He knew it. It helped tell Dean that he was there for him. He would listen.

"Alright Sam." His voice was husky and gruff. He looked up at Sam with those brilliant green eyes with splinters of gold in them. Sometimes Sam thought that his eyes and voice clashed. The kind, caring eyes of his brother were the opposite of his harsh growl like voice.

Dean sighed. He let go of Sam holding his hands and ran them through his short dark blonde hair ducking his head and finally resting his face in his hands. He was thinking.

Sam waited patiently.

Still with his face in his hands he said, "There's just somethin' I haven't toldjyou about. And it's just been botherin' me an' all..."

Sam listened and waited for Dean to elaborate.

Dean sighed again. This time it was more of an exasperated exhale. He lifted his head and looked out the window again.

"I'm scared."

Sam tilted his head as if he hadn't quite heard him. "Come again?"

Dean sighed yet again. It was heavier than the past ones, as if he was getting really annoyed, but at the same time realized it was his fault Sam wasn't understanding.

"I'm scared we'll never find dad. I'm scared that I'll be chasing him the rest of my life to never find him again. It'd be nice to, ya know…know if he's okay. Who knows if that really was him on the phone that one day before going to Indiana? It could've been a trap to get us killed. I almost did if it weren't fur you and your sudden urge to steal a car."

Sam didn't really get what Dean was saying at _all_ but he decided to wait until Dean was done. Besides, there was nothing he could possibly say that would make any difference to the situation.

"I have to find Dad Sam. I mean, I know sure as Hell you do too, but I need to find him for a different reason. For closer. To know that he's okay, to know that our searching isn't in vain…I'm scared something happened to him Sam. I kept thinking over the past few days…what if that really wasn't Dad on the phone? What if something happened to him, and that was something trying to kill us. Huh? This is getting harder for me to deal with Sam. It's harder for me to accept. Dad wouldn't just leave us for the thing that killed Mom. He would've gladly accepted our help, knowing he trained us all our freakin lives."

Dean was angry now, Sam could tell. His mood seemed to change a lot. But usually when he started out depressed, he'd end up being angry.

"Dean I have no doubt that was Dad on the phone. Besides, wouldn't I have gotten some weird sensation if it wasn't, what with my freaky "psychic powers?" He smiled queuing Dean to start laughing at his joke. Dean didn't even look at him.

"Oh come one Dean! I can't believe _that's _what's been bothering you! Don't you see? You're just all worked up cuz you haven't eaten in like 2 days. You'll get better once you eat." He smiled genuinely.

Dean looked at his brother. He could be so queer sometimes…

But then again…he was the one who was worried about not finding their father…

He decided he wasn't gonna press the matter. Maybe he was being petty and trivial. And that food the hott waitress was bringing the couple next to them looked really good…

He sighed for a last time. At least for now.

"Alright Sam. I guess you're right. I do need to eat." He smiled, glad that his dumb depression was over.

Sam was over the moon. He _knew_ he could be a help!

"Dad's fine Dean. I promise." There was something about Sam's smile that Dean couldn't doubt.

The girl came by to take their order. Everything looked so good to Dean. The brunette waitress in short shorts and a white wife beater was looking pretty delicious herself, but decided, unfortunately, that food was going to fuel his body in a more…substantial way. Like I said, unfortunately.

The brothers ate their food and after throwing a 20 on the table, trudged out the door. Dean squeaked his Baby's door shut and purred the engine to life. Sam smiled and pulled out his laptop looking up in their next destination in detail. He'd already had everything laid out for 2 full days, he just never said anything to Dean, since he was in a pretty low depression hole. Dean backed the Impala out of the graveled parking lot and got on the same road they came from.

"Where to next?" Dean looked up through the windshield at the quickly darkening sky.

"Some place called Cedar Grove, West Virginia. The deaths aren't numerous either. There've only been 4 or 5 in the past 20 years, but the same death cause dates back all the way to the late 1800's. It says here that every victim died in this situation. It seems that they've all been teenage girls, around the age of 16, who've been dared to spend the night at a grave yard. The next morning they were found dead in the arms of a statue. And this statue ain't your normal, everyday statue." He turned the laptop towards Dean. It showed the image of a gargoyle like monster with its arms held out in front of it, crossed as if it were holding something invisible.

"What a scary little bitch. And that's normal for something like that to be a grave stone? I mean, that seems pretty intense."

"That's another weird part. There aren't any accounts of it being placed there. It showed up when the first recorded death happened. They removed it after the death because it's so disturbing, but after every death, it shows up."

"So…the people there just, like, removed it but did nothing to set up a night watch? I mean, the best way to stop those deaths, is to make sure no ones in there in the first place."

"Well that's what they did. They set up a night watch with two female police officers at first about 30 years ago when they noticed the trend, but they ended up dying. Weird, considering the males never get the bad end of this. They soon set up male officers, but somehow teenage girls still manage to squeeze in. It doesn't happen every time one stays the night either. It happens sort of in a cycle. One recorded death date was in 1980 in June. It was around the second week. The next was 1981, second week of June. Next one, 1983 second week of June, next, 1986 same week, 1990…It seems as if the years are going in numbers. Like, 1980 plus one year is 1981. 1981 plus _two _years is 1983, 1983 plus three years is-"

"1986. Yea I see what you mean. Maybe it was always in that sort of cycle, but started in the late 1800's. That sort of repetitive cycle sounds like a ghost, or some poltergeist of some sort. They seem to like numbers…Well, at least I know one thing."

"What's that."

"I wouldn't stand a chance being an evil ghost. Numbers are complete _bitches_ to me. Never liked 'em. It's like tryin to read Chinese."

Sam rolled his eyes and continued clicking on the laptop.

"Anyway, this sounds like our kinda gig. Lemme know when you close Dean, im dead tired."

Sam closed his laptop and stowed it under the seat before pulling the hood of his sweatshirt over his face and leaned against the window.

"769 miles to Cedar Grove. Yay."

As the green sign flashed by the Impala traveling down the one way road, Dean saw the silhouette of a man pass by. He looked in the rearview mirror at the man that looked strangley like...

"Dad?"

But as soon as the words left his mouth, the man vanished.

* * *

There are two things going on at the same time... 

_Please _R&R. The second chapter should come out soon, but reviews would get me motivated to finish it.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys,

Thanks for the reviews, theyre greatly appreciated! As before, please PLEASE r&r. It helps tremendously. Hope you like it...

Caroline.

* * *

Next morning Sam woke up staring at the crudely painted sign that said:

"Welcome to Cedar Grove! Population 862"

Dean had apparently parked the car in a parking lot of a series of small businesses without bothering to wake him up.

_Wonderful, _Sam thought. _Just leave me here Dean. I mean, I couldn't possibly be of any help considering I told you about the freaking situation._

He exhaled irritably before slamming the door shut. He spotted a store with the words **"CEDAR GROVE BOOKSTORE**" boldly written above the wooden shop. Of course that would be where Dean was. He was too stupid to realize that a bookstore and a library are two completely different things.

He walked in to find Dean prying the elderly lady at the counter for information.

"So…you're telling me that you've never even _heard_ of the deaths at Cedar Grove Cemetery?" He asked suspiciously with eyes narrowed and leaning a bit too far in the lady's face.

Sam rolled his eyes. He walked up to Dean before she could answer him.

"There you are Jake. I've been looking for you! Now, will you stay with me and not run off this time to bother innocent people like this lady, next time? That's a good boy. Come on" he mouthed an "Im sorry" to the woman before leading Dean by hand out the door. The woman looked more confused than when Dean interrogated her.

"What is your _problem_ man? I had a lead on that lady, I swear she was hiding something."

"Dean. She's an ancient old lady who probably couldn't even _hear_ you. Besides, she's the cashier at a bookstore. You honestly think she has any reason to hide something like that?"

"…yes…" he said looking at the ground to his right.

Sam exhaled exasperatedly. Dean really should've gone to college when he had the chance…

"Okay well being in a bookstore doesn't really help with our research now does it?"

"I wasn't in there because it said bookstore."

"Then why the Hell _were_ you in there?"

"Well, when I first got here I decided not to wake you up, you looked too gosh darn cute to disturb," he flashed a fake smile to which Sam replied with a "Shut up" expression on his face. "Anyway, I looked around for the damn cemetery to see if I could spot this…statue thing, and I noticed her," he glanced inside the bookstore, referring to the old lady, "kneeling in front of the same statue. She seemed to be…praying or something. She had the whole head bowed, eyes closed, hands folded, murmuring thing goin' on. So I watched her for a while…tried to figure out what the Hell she was even doing there, when she saw me. She looked kinda panicked and scared and rushed over to her car as fast as her little legs could get her there" he spat in a disgusted tone.

"I'm tellin' ya man, she is up to something." He scanned the skyline about Sam's head as if to add a moment where his words actually meant something.

Sam cocked his head again like the night before.

"She was _praying_?"

"Yea I know man, tell me about it." He had a weirded out expression on his face, as if praying was some disgusting thing, like studying.

Sam's brow furrowed. She was praying?

"Are you sure she wasn't doing some sort of ritual or…spell? She wouldn't've been praying if she was instigating or, summoning this thing. It would've looked more like a repetitive memorized excerpt from a book in a different language, possibly Latin, but her hands wouldn't've been folded or clasped. That's a definite symbol of praying, something pure, something holy. Not evil at all…"

He looked so confused. He rubbed his forehead hacking his brain for information, memory, anything.

"…so…she isn't evil?" Dean asked disappointingly.

"Ah…" Sam sucked in air through his closed teeth still rubbing his head, "I don't think we can rule her out completely, but, ah..." he looked in pain.

Dean switched from detached-from-the-situation-mode to full alert mode "Sam. Sam are you okay?"

Sam fell to his knees. Clutching his forehead.

"God damnit not again. Sam. Sammy! Stay with me here bro, stay strong."

The last vision he saw was the blurry image of Deans worried face carefully holding his baby brother.

* * *

_It was night. Sam was standing on the corner of a street that looked vaguely familiar. It was chillingly cold outside, both because of the weather, and because of the strange feeling he felt. He looked around the dead intersection and crossed the street. He squeaked the wrought iron gate open and walked through the "Cedar Grove Cemetery" awning._

_He didn't really know what he was doing or where he was going, but something seemed to pull him along as if a string was attached to his belly and slowly dragged him in one direction._

"_Sam…"_

_He stopped abruptly. It felt like the wind was calling his name._

"_Sam…"_

_Wait a minute, what wind. The night was more dead than the cemetery he was in. He shivered and kept walking._

_He passed several, what seemed like, miles of graveyard, watching as the stones passed by. Some stated "Beloved Wife" others "Beloved Friend". Some said nothing at all. Just a stone to mark their passing._

_After 20 minutes of walking alone in the dark in the vast cemetery, Sam could see a circular clearing in the stones. In the center of this clearing, was the statue._

"_Sam."_

_

* * *

_

Sam gasped air as he came back, breathing heavily and blinking as little as possible. He didn't like it when he unconscious, dreaming about scary as Hell things.

"Sam! Sam, oh good. Dude you scared me for a second man." He held his brother and pressed his face into his chest. After several seconds of heavy breathing from Sam he pulled away from Dean's protective hold on him.

Dean waited a while before springing the obvious question on him. This one seemed worse than the past ones. In the past it took only several seconds for Sam to recover, but…for some reason Sam was taking an awful long time to come back. Finally, after 5 minutes, he decided it was okay.

"What did you see Sam?" He asked in a soft tone, as if talking too loud would cause him to have a heart attack.

Sam roamed the ground next to Dean with his eyes before traveling slowly upwards to his eyes. It looked like he had a hard time focusing. When he spoke, it was soft and he had a hard time pushing them out.

"I…I was on some 4-way street intersection. It was really dark and no one was out. I crossed the street and went into the Cedar Grove Cemetery…" he stopped finally realizing why the street intersection was vaguely familiar. But he wasn't awake when Dean was there…?

"Anyway…it felt like something was pulling me forward. Dragging me on. I had no idea where the Hell I was going…but, I just kept walking."

Dean's brow was furrowed and he nodded, implying that he understood.

"I walked for what seemed like forever and finally came to a circular clearing. The grass was in a perfect circle with no other grave stones, but in the center was the statue…." He looked right and left, not really looking at anything, just remembering and visualizing the vision he just experienced.

"And then I came back." He didn't tell Dean about the voice. He wasn't even positive it happened in the dream. Maybe it was a weird detail he was imagining.

This surprised Dean. Sam described the street intersection, the entrance, the clearing, everything perfectly. Dean was positive he was asleep when he visited those places. What was even weirder, was that Dean had the same pulling sensation when he was in the cemetery. Yea it didn't bother him as much then because it was daylight. To Sam it must've freaked the living daylights outa him being there alone at night. Premonition or not, that's scary shit.

"That's all right…" He said, "Everything. You described it in perfect detail."

Sam looked up at him. The color seemed to be flowing back into his face. This relieved Dean. At least he wasn't gonna die from shock of his vision. This time.

"Well. No use sitting here," Dean said as he got up clapping the dirt of his hands. "Might as well go find a motel around here."

Sam reached up with an arm asking for help up. Dean grabbed his hand and yanked him up. Turning towards the car, Sam followed him.

* * *

The brothers found a quaint little Inn several streets down. It was well kept, which was a change. The only thing that was…annoying, was the apparent obsession in lace the owner seemed to have. The damn stuff was everywhere. The curtains, the pillow cases… Hell the towels in the room's bathroom had bows on them. Dean felt like he was in a doll house. 

Sighing heavily, Dean collapsed on the left of the two queen beds. He rolled over to come face to face with a lacey, frilly pillow intoxicating his air. He grabbed it and threw it across the room.

"Remind me to buy my own damn pillows next time were at a store. This is ridiculous."

Sam laughed. "I don't mind it much. Just ignore it." He was clicking on his laptop again.

"Yea right. Just ignore it…" he looked around at the room. It practically screamed FEMME.

Sam chuckled to himself. The sight of Dean in a frilled wonderland was almost too much to bear.

"Ha ha," Dean mocked, "I swear…the only thing here that it needs is a white wicker table with teacups and teddy bears." His habit of looking around at the basically pink room was starting to make him nauseous.

"Oh I could arrange that if you want…?" Sam asked seriously, trying to hold back his smirk.

Dean took the other pink embroidered lace pillow and hurled it at Sam's head. "Shut up."

Sam laughed out loud.

"Ugh…" He flopped on his back and covered his eyes with the backside of his left hand.

Sam noticed how tired Dean was. He drove almost 800 miles non stop yesterday, except for gas. He could tell he was exhausted, both physically and mentally, but for some reason he wasn't letting himself drift off.

"Dean you really should get some sleep. It's not healthy for you to be burning the candle at both ends."

Dean lifted his head up to look at Sam.

"Oh, really? Well, if I'm not mistaken, you, Mr. Nightmares, got used to only a couple hours of sleep a night. Still do in fact…"

"Yea well, that's cause I have nightmares that wake me up. Plus I'm just a bad sleeper to begin with. You don't have that problem."

"Yea whatever man." He said as he dropped his head back on the bed.

Sam sighed. He wished his brother would just listen to him and sleep for God's sake. But, he was dealing with Dean Winchester, the king of stubbornness.

"Fine. I'm gonna get some sleep if you wont. Are you gonna eat at the Continental Breakfast the Inn is serving tomorrow?" He asked as he put the laptop on the table and took off his boots.

With his eyes closed and the hand palm-up still over his brow he said, "If the food is as pathetic and weak as this room, no thanks. I'll probably go down to the café down the street and grab a coffee."

"Alright well, I'm gonna try out this breakfast thing they got goin' on and if it is like you're expecting it to be, I'll join you."

"Whaaatever..." Dean said groggily. He was finally drifting.

_Good_, Sam thought. He watched his brothers form slowly rise and fall from his breathing. His eyes then lingered around the room, then to the window. Was there someone...? Was that-!

No. Sam laughed to himself. There's no way his dad would've been outside his window.

_I've_ got _to get some sleep. First my visions, now my hallucinations. Wonderful._

And with that the younger brother drifted off to sleep.

* * *

_Sam found himself walking in the cemetery at night again. This time the pull was stronger and more forceful. It almost dragged him to a run. However, he forced himself, almost painfully, to walk._

_It was ten minutes later when he came to the statue's clearing. He kept time._

_He stood at the edge of the circular clearing staring at the black marble statue._

"_Sam…"_

_Realizing it was talking to him he stared at it with a loathing glare for several minutes._

_"Sam..."_

"_What the Hell are you. Why do I keep coming here? What do you want!"_

"_I want you Sam. I want you, like the demon that took your mother, and girlfriend wanted them. I need you Sam. I need your life."_

_

* * *

_

Sam woke up hot and sweaty. The voice was real. And it knew about his mother.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dean, Sam or Supernatural in general. I however, do own Lynna.

**shards of a broken heart:** (No longer Hopliss Romantick)

There is a new character, as you may have noticed. I'm not gonna go into much depth about her here, because she's, obviously, in the story. Sorry it took so long to update, school's been a bitch. I have a week off so I'll do more writing.

Thank you for the reviews! They really help A TON. Quick note: don't be afraid to criticize! Anything to help make it better will make you my best friend. :.

Sorry to ramble. You're probably like "Get back to the story already!" so here you go! Hope you like it!

* * *

Dean was sitting at a small, round, wooden table sipping his piping hot, double-shot peppermint mocha with extra whip cream. Weird caffeine concoctions ran in the family. Unless of course he was just drinking straight, black coffee.

Sam found his big brother easily. Considering there were a total of two cafe's in the small town, Sam was able to take a good guess that Dean in fact would rather shoot himself, than drink coffee in the one named "Sugar, Cream and Sprinkles".

He walked over to Dean and sat across from him propping his head on his fist. He tilted his head to the right and gazed over at Dean. Dean continued to slurp his mocha noisily staring at Sam all the while. Sam cocked an eyebrow and declined his head, still achieving eye contact. Dean got the message he was being extremely rude, and put the mug down.

"So how did last night's 'mare' go?" He asked casually, as if they were discussing the weather.

"How did you know about that? You were sleeping." Sam's eyes narrowed.

"Oh come on. It's kinda hard when the guy in the bed next to you sits up abruptly, breathing like he hasn't in four days. Which is very loud, by the way." He cocked his eyebrow as he picked up his mug, as if informing Sam of something he didn't know.

Sam had a defeated look on his face

"It wasn't supposed to disturb you..." he said quietly, obviously upset.

Dean sighed.

"Sam...You honestly think it ruined my life? If you must know, I fell asleep right after you woke me up so it's not a big deal. What _is_ a big deal however, is what it was about."

Sam had been avoiding this question. He knew he would eventually have to face up and explain the whole awful thing, but he figured that if he brought up _just_ the right thing, he could stall it for a while longer.

"Did you ever get that number from the waitress two days ago?" Sam asked, trying to be convincing he was truly interested.

Dean looked confused and then relaxed his face, realizing. Two can play at this game.

"Yeah, actually. And I called her. Wanna know what we talked about?"

Sam answered a "sure" not really paying attention as he scanned the newspaper he discovered lying on the table. At least he steered Dean away from the question...

"Well, we just started talking about random stuff when she said she was feelin' antsy…"

Dean smirked. Sam looked up from the paper connecting his eyebrows, looking a little confused.

"You know what that means when they say that. So I said, 'Is there anything I can do to relieve you from that?'" He smirked again. By this point, Sam opened his mouth as if to object, but Dean started up again before he had the chance.

"And you know what she said? She said in this whiney, _whimpering_ voice, 'Yes Dean. Please...Please baby, relieve me of my need-'"

"OKAY! Okay, okay, okay, okay. I'll tell you what the nightmare was about." Sam almost yelled.

Dean smiled.

"Glad we're in agreement."

Sam scowled at Dean with his dumb ability to turn a situation in his favor. What's worse is the he, the smarter of the two, couldn't even see it coming.

He sighed.

"I was in the cemetery again." He said as if that was it.

Dean scowled at him.

"Okay Sam, I know you don't like talkin' about it but come on, man. You need to get over this little insecurity you have, and just spit it out. I mean, considering what's happened in the past, what with the Millers, you're nightmares might actually help us kill this demon/statue/spirit-thing-ma-jigg we know nothing about."

He sipped his now cooled off mocha.

Sam rolled his eyes in exasperation. Stalling was something he wasn't too good at.

"Okay, fine. You wanna know about the damn dream? Here it is. I was in the cemetery again and the pull from my stomach was stronger this time. It was almost dragging me, but I forced myself to walk. I timed myself too, and to get to the statue it took ten minutes. And that was it."

Dean looked doubtfully at Sam. When was he gonna learn that Dean could, and would, get everything out of him eventually? It's so much easier to just give in and volunteer the information. Sam, as if reading Dean's mind, decided he was tired of the game. There was no use trying to hide it. Maybe Dean was right. Maybe it _would_ help them...

"There was something else I didn't tell you about the first dream..."

Dean's eyes narrowed and furrowed his brow.

"There was a voice."

"What do you mean 'voice'...Are you telling me your nightmares now have narrations?"

Sam rolled his eyes.

"No. It was something in the dream. At first I thought it was the wind, like, calling me, but when I finally reached the statue I realized that that was the thing calling me."

Dean's eyes looked like they were gonna pop out from under his furrowed brow.

"_What?_"

"Yeah."

"And, you didn't tell me this before, because...?"

"I don't know. I wasn't even sure the voice was real until last night." He shrugged.

"So is there anything else you haven't told me that I should know?" Dean asked sarcastically.

"Actually, yeah. Last night, when I finally reached the statue it said more than my name. I said it needed me, my life..."

He concentrated on exactly what it said.

"It said it needed my life, like the demon that took my mother and girlfriend needed them."

Dean almost spit the coffee he was drinking, all over the table.

"Excuse me?"

Sam exhaled, "Yeah. I know."

Neither brother could say anything. What _was_ there to say? The situation they were investigating in which they knew nothing about, suddenly knew more about their past than they themselves knew.

This bothered Dean. How on Earth could some random, stupid demon/spirit/God-knows-what, know more about the demon that killed his mother than himself?

Dean slurped his mocha louder in annoyance.

"So I'm guessing that this demon has more to do with us than we thought…"

"Oh really, college boy? _I_ happened to think that its knowledge of our past was completely irrelevant to our lives. Thank you for showing me the light." He rolled his eyes.

"Well if you're so smart, why don't you enlighten me on your plan to kill the demon? If it even is one." Sam couldn't help but smirk at his own remark. It was too much to try and hold it in.

"I have a plan!" Dean said defensively," I just...have to work out a few kinks is all..." He broke eye contact.

"Oh, uh huh. Well, let me know when your 'kinks' are worked out so we can get this over with. That statue's really startin' to make me anxious…I'd rather not get involved with the whole demon/Mom/Jess thing. I mean, it could be a bluff to get me reeled in, right?"

Dean wasn't paying attention. He was too engrossed in his own thoughts to hear Sam.

"I got it. Have you ever tried to decipher your dreams, Sammy?"

"It's Sam, and no. I haven't...Why?"

"Because, maybe there's more to this than we're realizing. And I think I know how to find out what they are, and what they mean."

* * *

"I cannot believe you, of all people, want to buy these."

"What? It's a good investment! Besides, I've always been sorta curious..."

Dean slapped the three thick books on the counter.

"So you're going to buy dream books."

Dean flashed a smile, "Precisely."

The cashier (A younger, happier looking girl from the one who was there the day before) said, "That'll be...sixty nine dollars even." She flickered a flirtatious smile in Dean's direction.

Dean smirked as he handed her the credit card, "My favorite number."

Sam rolled his eyes. Dean could be so sex-oriented sometimes, it was annoying.

"So you really think this dream book stuff is gonna be useful?"

"Well, I can't exactly guarantee it's gonna help with…" he lowered his voice, "_your_ kinda 'dreams', but it's worth a shot."

"Okay..." Sam said in an "I give up" kind of way.

As they were leaving the store, Dean almost ran into a girl walking at a quick pace. Her hair was long and dark brown with streaks of subtle red running through it. She looked up at Dean with amazing _dark_ blue/green eyes. Her eyebrows were angled and, her eyes were slightly angled as well, though not in an Oriental way. She looked incredibly exotic that it was a wonder what she was doing in such a small town as Cedar Grove.

As soon as she made eye contact with Dean, she quickly broke it and kept striding.

"Whoa, Sam," Dean said once she was gone, "I think I just saw an angel..." He said staring at the place she had just been.

Sam laughed.

"That wasn't an angel Dean. At least, I'm pretty sure she's human."

"Naw, man. Women are hardly ever that gorgeous...Although they do get close..."

Sam made a disgusted noise and walked over to the car and got in.

Dean reluctantly left his "fateful" spot and squeaked his "other" angel's door closed.

There was something else about her...something deeper than her beauty. But what it was, Dean just couldn't put his finger on it…

* * *

"Nothing. I knew it. I don't know why I even let you waste money like that!"

Not hearing him Dean said, "Hey! It says here, 'To see statues in dreams signifies estrangement from a loved one. Lack of energy will cause you disappointment in realizing wishes.'" Dean looked at Sam, "Is there something you're not telling me little brother?" He smirked.

"Give me that!"

Grabbing the book out of Dean's hands he tossed it along side the others, threw them in the white plastic bag they came with when the brothers bought them, and dumped it on the hardly stained cream carpet.

"These books were useless. I have _premonitions_ Dean, not dreams. I'm taking them back to the bookstore in a little bit, after I take a nap."

Dean sighed.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Don't worry about taking 'em back. I will. You just try and get some sleep, kay?"

He smiled reassuringly, which made Sam feel guilty for snapping at him.

Dean picked up the crinkling plastic bag, grabbed his cell off of the white dresser and walked out the door.

Sam stared after him at the closed door. How on Earth was he supposed to sleep?

_Much easier said than done_, he realized.

* * *

After getting his "sixty nine dollars even" back, Dean walked out of the store. The girl in there was way too obvious about being touchy feely with that whole "spend our lives together for eternity" shit, that she was basically her own worst enemy in scaring him off. Dean laughed to himself. Females…

But hey, it wasn't his fault he was God's gift to women.

He decided it was too early to go back to the room. Besides, he knew once he got there it would give Sam an excuse to wake up. Not that he was sleeping anyway…

So, to pass the time, he cruised in the Impala blasting the Metallica and Black Sabbath. Driving on the other side of town, he noticed a bar he hadn't seen before.

"A few drinkies couldn't hurt. Hell, they'd probably help." He smirked as he parked the car, screeched the door shut, and walked over the gravel parking lot into "The Silver Pole". It almost, just almost looked like a hooker bar. But that had nothing to do with why Dean was in there. Of course not.

Dean sat down at the counter and ordered a dirty martini. He grinned in reply to the flirtatious touches and smiles from the bartender, who looked incredibly hot. But for some weird reason he just wouldn't..._couldn't_ respond in his normal manner. Which would have been to have at least three more drinks, and take her back to his room.

He gave up halfway through his martini, much to the disappointment of the bartender. He smiled a "thanks" and left. That smile had no suggestive content at all. He just couldn't pull it off today. What was with him?

He got up, threw a ten on the counter, and turned around.

There was that stunning girl again.

Dean had been about to take a step forward before he saw her, but now his foot paused in mid air. He closed his dropped jaw and collected himself.

She was wearing tight fitted, dark jeans tucked into her black lace up, high heeled boots. Her deep red and white corset styled top accentuated her perfect body. Some jerk in the bar, who obviously had had his fair share of drinks, as well as his friend's, kept bothering her. She looked completely uninterested, and on the verge of hitting him.

Dean decided this would be his perfect chance to step in.

He strode over to where the scene was happening and walked up behind the girl.

"There you are sweetheart...I was looking for you," Dean purred as he wrapped his arms around her, not too low, but just so they were resting on her stomach. He didn't want to make the situation worse for her. Or him...

She turned her head just a little bit to see who the Hell was bothering her this time, when she noticed it was that guy she almost ran into earlier that day. She smirked to herself and decided to play along.

Turning completely around she ran her fingers on the collar of his leather jacket.

"Oh hey honey...I missed you. You were gone for a whole five minutes..." she pouted, rather loudly.

Dean grinned. He was gonna like this girl.

"Is there something wrong, baby? You looks upset, or pissed off." At those words he looked over at the tough biker looking dude, who was bothering her earlier.

The girl turned back around and flashed the guy a vile look.

"No, I'm fine. Let's get out of here, yeah?"

And with that she pulled on his hand and led him out the door.

The group that had gathered during the scene looked on in shock as the two left the bar. Many of the men scowled, and the mood within the bar turned reasonably sour.

Once out of the bar the girl started laughing.

"Thanks for that. Man...some guys just can't take a hint..." She smiled at Dean which made his heart race. But not enough to make him nervous. He was Dean, God's gift to the female race. Remember?

"Yeah tell me about it. So uh, I never caught your name, 'sweetheart'. I guess it got lost somewhere in there," he grinned.

She laughed.

"My name's Lynna. Lynna Evindr."

"Lynna Evindr..." he made an upside-down smile nodding. That wasn't an every day last name.

"I'm Dean Winchester." He said, almost cockily.

She laughed again.

"That's cute. Dean..." she looked up at him and smiled again. She swished her long hair onto one shoulder and shrugged.

"Alright, well I better get going. Thanks again, Dean." She went over to him, kissed him on the cheek, and very gracefully, walked over to a midnight blue BMW that looked extremely expensive. The door shut, and the car was gone before Dean had put his hand up to where she kissed him. It felt like the skin was burning and freezing at the same time, but when he put his hand to it, the skin felt normal.

He loved it, but then, hated it at the same time.

This girl was going to keep him on his toes.

* * *

Sam sat rigidly on his queen bed. Three times he tried to forget the flashing images of that damn statue. The newly horrifying images from today, were really starting to wear him down. He gave up trying to sleep half an hour ago.

_Where is Dean?_ Sam wondered.

Of course.

He was either trying to seduce that girl from the bookstore, or out at some club/bar hitting on some other girl.

Sam sighed.

Well, considering they hadn't been near a member of the female population in about a month, he cut Dean some slack. He had to admit, Dean had done pretty good thus far.

But that still didn't make the boredom of the empty room go away. This was frustrating.

* * *

Dean cruised in the Impala for a while thinking about Lynna. What the Hell was it? Women are the ones usually left to think about _him_ for hours after they "meet". This was frustrating. He forced himself to ponder the situation they were in. A statue. That kills people. It, assumingly is able to converse. It kills people. A statue...

Thinking about Lynna seemed to be easier. And came more naturally...

Dean almost yelled in frustration.

"I give up," he said aloud.

Turning the car around, Dean drove back to the Inn.

Sam heard the door open. He looked up from his laptop to see Dean, looking mildly disturbed. His face was lined with worry, and bags were beginning to form from exhaustion. The poor guy looked like he was about to collapse of sleep deprivation and stress.

"What's up?" Sam asked.

"What? Oh, nothin." He looked distracted.

"You okay?"

"Uh, yea. Think so." Dean was pacing the room now. The "hardly stained cream carpet" was now no longer "hardly stained" or "cream". Deans muddy boots made sure of that.

"Okay spill it. You're obviously upset about something, Dean. What, did the girl from the bookstore tell you she's saving herself for marriage?" He almost laughed, but decided he wouldn't push Dean's buttons any further.

"What girl?"

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Oh yeah. Her. Um, no actually she turned out to want to marry me. Or at least 'spend our lives together for eternity'. Not that I blame her," he smirked for a second, "No, it's not her I'm worrying about..."

Sam's brow furrowed.

"Then who _are _you worrying about...?"

Dean looked up and stopped pacing.

"Lynna."

"Come again?"

"You know that girl? Outside the bookstore?"

"Oh...right. The 'angel' you almost plowed over, because you weren't paying attention to where you were going."

Dean gave him a dirty look.

"What about her?" Sam ignored the look.

"I don't know, man... I went to this bar-"

_Knew it_, Sam thought.

"-and there she was. Some guy was bothering her so I decided to get rid of him for her. I pretended to be her boyfriend and she played along with it."

"You, what?"

"Yeah. And then we walked out, she told me her name was Lynna, thanked me for getting her out of that situation, and kissed me on the cheek. After that she drove off in this awesome BMW..."

Dean was lost in the vision of what had happened not 30 minutes ago. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Earth to Dean. Yeah, come on back there astronaut. I was losin' you for a second."

Dean came back to the present, and looked at Sam.

"Okay Dean, so what's the problem? Sounds like nothing unusual...?"

"That's just it. It _wasn't_ unusual. Except for that kiss..."

Sam was annoyed now. He didn't want to go into Dean's love life again. He'd almost rather go back to envisioning his premonitions. Almost.

"That's great Dean," and went back to clicking on the laptop.

"No really man. After she kissed my cheek, the skin burned, and froze at the same time. At least to me because when I touched it, it felt normal."

Sam looked up.

"Are you sure it wasn't just a reaction to her kissing you? Like you imagined it?"

"Dude. That has never happened before. Ever. Sure I imagine other things, but never anything like that."

Sam made a "huh" remark as he thought about it.

"Well, I don't know what to tell you man. Maybe she had lip gloss that had some kind of chemical reaction. You know those new things where they make your lips bigger? They tingle because of the reaction it has on your ski-"

"No man! Ugh, I'm telling you, it wasn't a product, or a pigment of my imagination, or whatever. It was the weirdest thing I've ever felt..."

Sam looked defeated.

"I don't know Dean. I wasn't there..."

Dean looked at his little brother and sighed.

"I'm sorry man, it's just been bothering me to no end...And I can't stop thinking about her."

"Sounds like it."

Dean exhaled and sat down on the bed. He rubbed his eyes and (finally) kicked off his boots.

"I'm gonna try and sleep this off. If you find anything about that statue, wake me up."

Sam nodded and watched as Dean fell asleep.

* * *

The laptop was being annoying. Nothing useful was coming out of the millions of search results he found.

He decided to pull a Dean, and leave for a while. Collect his thoughts.

He left a note that scribbled

"_Dean,_

_  
I went out to think things over. Don't worry about the car, I have it. I'll be home at around_-"

Sam glanced at his watch. It was 6 o'clock.

"_-Seven or seven thirty. There's money on the dresser if you need it, but I should be back before it's time for dinner._

_Sam._"

He pulled on his leather coat and boots, grabbed his cell, keys and wallet, and quietly headed out the door.

* * *

Sam's slow realizations on things were really starting to piss him off royally.

Of course there wouldn't be anything to do in this small town. The population was 862 for God's sake.

The Winchesters' lives were pretty dull at this point.

There's nothing worse than to be stranded in a microscopic town, trying to figure out how to kill a statue. Plus, there was this whole Lynna thing to worry about now, not that it seemed like a big deal to Sam. Dean was probably just hallucinating. He was on the verge of a break down, anyway.

He decided to go eat. He wasn't hungry, but he hadn't eaten since yesterday. He needed to nourish his body, or else he wouldn't be able to get home conscious.

Sam spotted a small restaurant called "Lola's". Sam shrugged and parked the car.

It was fairly empty inside and Sam found himself a seat at a table for two. Picking up the menu that was laid out along with a napkin, fork and knife, he scanned his options.

An elderly waitress ("Ethel" Sam saw on her button) came over and got Sam's order – a cheeseburger, fries and coke – and left to bring it to the cook.

Not three seconds after she left, the door chimed open. Automatically reacting to the noise, Sam turned around to see who it was.

Lynna smoothly stepped in and looked around, as if not sure where to go.

_She _is _beautiful_, Sam thought, _but not my type. Definitely Dean's girl._

"Hey," Sam called. He wanted to see if there really was something "different" about her, as Dean claimed there was.

Lynna made her gaze over to Sam. She smiled with her eyebrows pulled towards each other as if confused, but walked over and sat across from him.

"Hi…?" She half said, half asked.

"Hi. I'm Sam, Dean's brother. He almost ran over you this afternoon, and then pretended to be your boyfriend not too long ago."

Lynna smiled confidently this time.

"Winchester. Right…Sweet guy. He got me out of a nasty situation pretty effortlessly."

"Yea he mentioned something like that. So, are you here alone?" He asked evenly. Sam was good at talking to people he didn't know. It came more naturally to him than Dean.

"Well, yeah. I mean, no. Uh…" She looked confused.

Sam cocked an eyebrow waiting for her answer.

She sighed.

"I _was_ here with my brother Valkin. Let's just say he…went his own way."

"Oh, I see. Want something to eat?"

"Oh, um, no thanks I don't-"

"Come on, my treat…?" Sam pressed with such confidence and gentleness, Lynna laughed.

"Okay. Just a coke."

Sam gave his "defeated" look again. There was something about a girl who doesn't eat that worried him.

"And a cheeseburger…?" He asked hopefully.

Lynna opened her mouth to object, but then smiled and nodded, "And a cheeseburger."

Sam noticed that she smiled and laughed a lot. She was very comfortable to be around. He wondered what she was like when she was angry. Something told him she wasn't the "angel" Dean claimed she was, which was interesting. He wondered what her past was like.

Ethel came by to bring Sam's coke and take up Lynna's order. She smiled sweetly, and bustled towards the kitchen.

"So what are you doing here in Cedar Grove?" He asked before taking a sip of his coke.

"Oh you know…visiting family," she answered awkwardly.

"Hm." Sam acknowledged her response as he thought about it.

"It" being way she responded, not the actual answer.

Lynna nodded as if to clarify her reply.

"So, Sam. What are you and your brother doing all the way out here in little Cedar Grove?"

"Oh we're road tripping. We're originally from Kansas and decided to just tour the states." He said fluidly. Lying was easier for him out of the two. That much was obvious. Just, why she would be lying was a mystery.

"Oh, that's great," she beamed, "Bonding between two brothers, huh? I wish my brother would've stayed longer to bond…he wasn't the type to be 'touchy feely' as he would say," she shrugged, "Older brothers…is Dean the older one?" she asked suddenly very attentive on their conversation.

"Yep. By four years. Never lets me forget it either…"

Lynna laughed.

"Yeah but, he's a good guy. He looks out for me. Ever since our mother died when we were little, he's kind of been my 'parent'."

"Oh I'm sorry…" She said, shocked.

Sam laughed gently, "Don't worry about it. It happened so long ago, it hardly effects us now."

_And that was the biggest lie of them all_, Sam thought.

"He seems really sweet…Dean." she seemed to start drifting at that.

Sam exhaled quickly, making sure it didn't become a laugh. Not wanting to ruin their little fling or whatever he just said, "Oh yes, that Dean. He's a real cuddle bug."

Lynna snapped out of her thoughts.

"…What..?" she almost looked kind of grossed out.

"Sarcastic," Sam said quickly, realizing that she wasn't into that type of guy.

_Maybe she is Dean's angel. _Sam laughed to himself.

"So he isn't?" she looked happy again.

"If only you knew…" Sam said shaking his head.

By this point the waitress was back, carrying their food on white round plates. The two of them looked up, smiled a "thanks", and Ethel left.

They ate in silence, although it wasn't an awkward silence. Sam liked it. He liked being able to just sit and eat, without having that awful, awkward air looming over him and whoever he was with.

When they were done, Ethel came back bustling to pick up their plates and the two of them got up. Sam threw a twenty on the table and walked out the door, Lynna close in tow.

The air was chilly outside and Sam could see his breath and he exhaled. Walking with his hands in his pockets, he turned and faced Lynna.

She was pulling on her jacket as he watched her. When she was done she looked up and smiled.

"Thanks for dinner, Sam. I liked talking to you, even though we didn't talk _about_ much. Oh and I'm sorry about your mother. Even if it did happen a long time ago, losing a parent like that can affect you for life. Especially when you don't understand why, or how they died. Believe me, I would know." She flashed him a look that almost made Sam question what she meant. Was she talking about...?

"Bye Sam. Tell your brother I said hi," she said as she started to walk over to her car.

Stopping at the door she called, "Oh and if you ever need someone to talk to, I'll be here. 'Till Saturday, at least. I'm staying at my grandparent's house on Elm. It's the third house on the right. You should visit before you leave. Bring Dean along too," she smiled, "I bet we would find that we have a lot in common. After all, many people can own the same statue, right Sam?"

And with that she drove off into the darkness.

* * *

Still debating whether there is gonna be an undertone of romance. Lol I bet you all assumed there was going to be one huh?

This chapter was really long. I couldn't decide where to end it. So, I just kind of made myself stop. You know the drill, review review review!

LOVE to hear what you guys think. Suggestions are always welcome. Actually, they're encouraged. Haha.

Next chapter will be out soon, I promise!


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